


Girls Like Girls (And Nora's In Denial)

by JZXR7



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: Deciding to date girls instead, Disaster Gays, F/F, Much bitching about idiot men, Oblivious Nora, Running Away Together, gay pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 18:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16859050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JZXR7/pseuds/JZXR7
Summary: In which Nora Montgomery and Billie Dean Howard are born in the same time period and become rather good friends. While Nora's social circle may despair of the medium's rather scandalous behavior, Nora is entranced.And enamored. Not that she realizes that.





	Girls Like Girls (And Nora's In Denial)

Billie Dean Howard is Nora’s constant companion, to her mother’s shock and horror. The woman is a walking scandal, leaving high society to travel the country performing seances for the rich and refusing marriage proposals left and right. Nora finds her fascinating.

They’re close, practically sisters in the eyes of Californian gossip parlors. Absolutely inseparable. They sleep in the same bed often, as good friends do. And help each other out of the complex dresses and hairstyles that are stylish at the moment. It’s wonderful to have a friend who seems to have no ulterior motive in spending time with her, and Nora absorbs Billie’s attention like a sponge.

But after Charles comes by her home to invite her on a walk or bring her flowers, Nora can’t help but notice how Billie’s behavior toward her changes slightly.

Her hands linger when she helps Nora out of her dress, soft caresses over her shoulder blades and waist. Long nails trail lightly down her spine and give her chills. Long fingers pluck the bobby pins out of her hair and twist through it.

It feels good. Not good like the fawning of her many male acquaintances, but good like the way that her nightgown rubs against her chest or the strange hammering in her heart when beautiful women compliment her. It’s unusual, but she enjoys it.

Clearly, so does Billie. She’s still fully dressed, facing Nora with a self-satisfied smirk. Her eyes seem to drift over Nora’s chest and hips before settling on her face.

“You know you can do better than him, right?”

Nora opens her mouth to speak, but Billie steps forward and places a finger to her lips. That feels good too, and she freezes with her words forgotten.

“You don’t want him. I know you don’t.”

She should argue. Tell Billie she’s overstepping her bounds and remove her from the room. But she’s right, and to at least one person Nora ought to admit she has no desire to become Mrs. Montgomery. Or Mrs. Anything, for that matter.

It may as well be Billie, with her soft hands and long fingernails and pink lips.

“You…Are not incorrect in your assumptions.”

Billie raises an eyebrow. “I know. You’re not a subtle woman, Nora.”

She would resent that remark if it came from anyone else. But Billie is Billie, and she can say what she likes. Do what she likes, as well. Her hands brush over Nora’s collarbones and settle at her hips, pulling the two of them closer together. Nora stops breathing.

“You know what I think?”

No, but she’d very much like to.

“I think the reason you can’t marry him is because you think of him on top of you and you get sick. Am I wrong?”

She’s not. At this point, Nora has assumed acts of physical intimacy are just one of the many things she finds repellent. She will endure, as all women do.

“Tell me, Nora. Would the idea of someone a bit…different, be better?”

Billie takes a step forward. Nora takes one back. The foot of her bed brushes against her legs and she pauses, suddenly aware of her close proximity to Billie. Who is still moving closer.

“You know what else I think?” Billie’s mouth is next to her ear. Nora can smell her perfume, feel her skin against her cheek. Her head is swimming with it all.

“I think there is someone else you’d rather have. You just won’t admit it.”

In this one thing, she will correct her friend. “Please. All men are equally dismal prospects.”

Billie pushes Nora back onto the bed gently, grinning down from her new position astride Nora’s hips. Her heart is beating so very quickly, and an insistent heat is growing between her legs, and Billie looks as though she’s reveling in being the cause of it all.

“Hmm… Pity you’re only accepting suits from men, then. It seems to me you’re missing a few better offers by doing that.”

She leans forward, presses a kiss to Nora’s cheek, and springs back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, darling. I have a seance to perform.”

Nora watches her go, a whirlwind through her thoughts. What a ridiculous idea, accepting suits from people who weren’t men. And yet. Billie’s remarks stampede through her mind tauntingly. Even if she was taking proposals from other women, it’s not like that would be any better. The press of another woman’s lips against her own would be just as sickening as the one and only time she allowed Charles to do so. She’s certain of it.

Her cheek burns from Billie’s lips and she flushes. Imagines those lips against her own.

She only realizes she’s smiling after watching Billie’s car disappear into the distance.

* * *

Nora can’t stop thinking about Billie’s suggestion. It’s absolutely ludicrous, of course, to even suggest that she might take a woman as a spouse. Not to mention impossible. Billie must have been teasing her, the woman is prone to socially unusual behavior like that.

And yet.

She feels Billie’s lips on her cheek when she goes to sleep at night. Remembers the weight of her hips upon her own. Wonders, tossing and turning in her bed late into the night, what it might feel like. To kiss her. To feel her body against her.

Which is sinful and disgusting and Nora is fairly certain she’s slowly going mad.

Billie has been absent traveling for a week and it is driving her mad. Surely, if the woman were here, Nora could stop imagining. The yearning to touch and caress and feel every inch of Billie’s skin on hers must be a strange product of missing her. It’s possible. She’s never had a friend who makes her feel quite like Billie does, after all.

She’s never had a romance that makes her feel like Billie does either.

Charles has been insufferable in Billie’s absence. He visits her every day, bringing gifts and tales of his work and she’s so very bored she wants to scream. She misses Billie sitting on the couch next to her, close enough to whisper devastatingly rude jokes in her ear and point out her suitor’s every flaw. She’s painfully aware of each of them, but having someone else who sees them and isn’t urging her to wear his ring is immeasurably valuable to her.

Billie is immeasurably valuable to her. As her friend, and only as her friend. The fact that images of Billie as…far more than her friend that fill her every moment are merely figments of her own dissatisfaction with her prospects. That’s all.

* * *

Billie returns late in the evening on a Saturday, after almost two weeks of gallivanting off God knows where with God knows who. (She’s not jealous of whoever she’s been spending time with. Really, she’s not.)

She breezes into Nora’s home like she never left, pulls her into a soft embrace, and tells Nora how much she missed her. Billie’s body is flush against hers, and Nora can feel her pulse racing. Because she misses Billie. That’s all. Not because when Billie pulls away and tells her how no one she’s seen is remotely as engaging as she is Nora heard angels singing. Because that would be ridiculous!

Ridiculous or not, it keeps happening.

Billie is animatedly recounting some performance gone comically wrong, and Nora hasn’t been paying attention to the exact words coming out of her mouth for ages because the light from the window falls perfectly across her face to make her eyes glow gold, and Nora is hypnotized. Her hair falls in glorious waves about her face, and Nora notices her hand creeping forward as if to touch it. Billie makes no sign of noticing her distraction.

“-And then the entire table collapsed. It was a complete catastrophe, and Mrs. Thompson thought the spirit did it. I’ve been booked solid by all her friends!”

Nora nods. She knows she ought to congratulate Billie, but a selfish part of her doesn’t want her friend to leave. Ever.

There is a hand waving in front of her face, and Nora realizes that perhaps Billie wasn’t as oblivious to her distraction as she assumed.

“Are you tired, dear? I can always come back another time.”

She’s exhausted. The time without Billie has been a never-ending parade of events and bland young men asking her to dance. But she’d happily go without sleep for a month if she could spend it in Billie’s company.

“Don’t go!”

She winces. That had been meant to sound more…dignified. Billie chuckles lightly and takes her hand, stroking over the knuckles.

“Are you sure? You feel warm.”

She’s not warm, she’s burning. But Billie needn’t know that.

“Your face is all red. Are you sure you aren’t ill?”

She isn’t. She must be infected with some strange disease, madness infusing her thoughts as she finds herself assaulted with images of Billie all hours of the day.

“Billie Dean Howard. I swear to you, I am in perfect health.”

Billie grins. Nora swears she’s moved closer.

“Just happy to see me, then?”

Unthinkingly, Nora nods, innocent to the implications of her admission.

“I shall admit I’ve missed you terribly.”

Billie drops her head into Nora’s shoulder, sighing in contentment.

“I’ll have to bring you with me next time. It’ll be good for you, getting away from these people, having an adventure. Maybe we’ll even find you a decent lover, hmm?”

Nora flushes scarlet. This conversation is heading into dangerous waters. Billie continues undaunted.

“How about a performer? Clearly, doctors aren’t your type. Some charismatic young thing for a night or two?”

Billie pokes her in the side, clearly teasing. It tickles, and Nora shrieks. Billie surges forward, and Nora flies off the couch. They careen through the house and up the stairs into Nora’s room, besides themselves with laughter.

Billie nudges the door closed and slowly walks toward Nora. She makes no attempt to escape. There’s nowhere to run, for one thing, and part of her rather relishes the thought of being caught.

Once again, she finds herself trapped against her bed with Billie rapidly approaching. There’s no denying she hopes for a repeat of the last time it happened, perhaps without the sudden interruption.

“So, how’s Charles?”

She scowls at the sudden change of topic.

“Charles Montgomery is a boring, overconfident, lazy imbecile content to coast on his previous successes while expecting the world to fall at his feet. Never have I met such an arrogant, entitled, oily little-“

“-Well then. Do I hear wedding bells?”

Nora rolls her eyes. Billie is grinning widely, pleased to have gotten an “unladylike” reaction.

“…If not him, then who? It’s not like there’s anyone less insufferable.”

Billie snorts, marching forward until they’re chest to chest.

“No one.”

Nora can see her chest rise and fall as she breathes. It’s a calming motion.

“I beg your pardon?”

Billie’s hands trail up her sides.

“Don’t get married. Run away with me. To New York! Or Boston! Or anywhere! You’ve got the money for it.”

She does. Not that it matters.

“It would create a scandal.”

Billie huffs. She seems almost…hurt? Which won’t do at all.

“I suppose…It’s worth considering. Regardless of the consequences.”

There. Billie seems less sad now, and more exasperated.

“All the best things require a little risk.”

She leans forward. Nora remains in place. Nora can see how long her eyelashes are from up close, how the ends of her hair fall into her face. It’s too much. Before she realizes what exactly she’s doing, her hands are on Billie’s hips and she’s pressed their mouths together.

It’s several seconds of Billie kissing her back before she realizes the woman is laughing. She pulls away, confused and a bit offended.

Billie looks up at her. “Took you long enough. I thought you’d crack for sure after I asked you about Charles.”

Nora kisses her again to shut her up. She’ll need to pack a suitcase tonight if they’re to catch the next train to New York. Are the styles different there?

Billie’s tongue flirts over the seam of her lips and she decides her clothing choices can wait.


End file.
